Jan. 9th, 2016

suitably_heroic: (dsp: fear the jacket)
So Sparkle was out for the night, and it'd been a while since Atton caught up with whatever Anakin was doing (probably being yelled at by children and yelling at other children to make up for it). Seemed like it was the right time for a 'hey, we survived the first week of the new semester' drink.

Of course, Anakin drank like a smuggler who hadn't seen a cantina in ten years, so there were three new bottles of whiskey sitting in Atton's kitchen. There was no way he was wasting precious juma on this one. Atton poured himself a glass of the juma and sat down in the chair, careful not to bump his still-sore arm into it. Going by Anakin's Force-presence, he figured he had about a minute or two before his door was getting - metaphorically, hopefully - kicked in.

He sighed.

[[ for one, and then another. some minor ocd up ahead. ]]

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